But I'm Not a Musician
by IndifferentIgnorance
Summary: So here I was, at Camp Rock, with absolutly no idea how to sing, read, write or play music in any way, shape or form. The only thing I was certain of was that this summer was going to be extremly humiliating.
1. What Am I Doing Here?

What Am I Doing Here?

"Bye, mum!" I called to the curly-haired lady in the Ford Focus who was waving enthusiastically to me while also backing down the road. After I had watched the car disappear down the gravel track, I turned around and surveyed my surroundings. _Well, this is it_, I thought and looked at the hundreds of teenagers milling around. I was certain of one thing as I stood on the gravel in amongst the music prodigies of America – this summer was going to be humiliating.

Okay, here's the deal; my name is Jools (_please_ don't call me Juliet), and I'm an English girl who's mother had recently remarried and moved herself and her thirteen-year-old daughter to Spring City, Utah, USA. I was here, at Camp Rock, because Dave, my step-dad, and Sadie, my mum, wished to honeymoon in California and didn't want a grumpy teenager invading their personal space. Ha, as if I'd even want to go near the loved up couple.

So basically Dave found a brochure for Camp Rock and he and mum thought I might like to spend my summer singing. There was just one problem. I had absolutely _no musical experience at all_. I mean, I'd sung in school concerts that have been compulsory, and I liked to mess about on the drums as much as the next person, but I couldn't read music or tell you which end of the keyboard is which. How was I going to look to people who have sung on Broadway since they were three? Or the kids who actually knew where middle C is? Or _what_ middle C is?

As I looked at all the people, a large, dark reddish truck rolled up the driveway, with _Connie's Catering_ written on the front. Hopefully the food here would be better than the stuff they served back home, at school. As soon as the truck had stopped, a teenage girl jumped out, grinning like there was no tomorrow. "I'll see you later!" she called to the lady in the driver's seat, before yelling "Caitlyn!" and rushing toward a girl with honey-coloured hair, who hugged her excitedly.

"Come on, Dee will be welcoming everyone in a minute, we'd better get down to the stage." I heard Caitlyn say, and since I had no idea where the stage was, I picked up my bags and walked in the direction the two girls had gone.

My summer camp nightmare had started.


	2. Friendly Banter

**Hi guys **

**This is the first fanfiction I've published, so forgive me if I'm a bit slow at updating, I'm still geting used to how this site works. Thank you to all you awesome people who read/reviwed/alerted this story, this is for you. Please review with your honest opinion of what you think of this story, it means a lot to me.**

**Thanks!**

Friendly Banter

"And now," Dee, the Musical Director, announced beaming, "I am sure all of you who were here last year will remember that we had a very special celebrity instructor teaching you all."

"Psh, Shane Gray is not _special_." I heard Caitlyn mutter, and the girl dark-haired girl from the _Connie's_ _Catering_ van nudged her to be quiet. I had heard of Shane Gray, everyone had. But he had taught _here_?

"Yes, Shane Gray and his bandmates, Nate and Jason from Connect Three, will be teaching here this summer!" Dee laughed as the crowd went wild. I really, really hoped I wouldn't have any classes with the three most famous musicians on the planet – It was all very well looking stupid in front of my classmates, but I wasn't sure if I could take it if I messed up in front of the guys whose CD was in my mother's car.

* * *

After the welcome speech had ended, I collected a sheet with a map, my timetable and cabin on it from one of the admin offices, and saw to my dismay I had the following lessons with the following teachers:

_Beginners Dance: Shane Gray_

_Beginners Guitar: Jason Walker_

_Music Theory Grade 1: Nate Terry_

_Singing in Tune: Brown Cesario_

I had _all three_ Connect Three boys, plus a dude I had never heard of. Joy.

I turned to pick my bags up and collided with one of the girls I had heard talking earlier, the dark- haired one.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" she yelped, leaping backwards at the same time as I did.

"Mitchie, you prat! What's with you and banging into people?" Caitlyn asked, laughing at her friend.

"Don't worry about it; I should have moved my bags." I admitted, bending down and grabbing my rucksack.

"Mitchie, have you been terrorizing the poor new students?" I heard a voice behind me say, and looked up to see Shane Gray, Nate Terry and Jason Walker coming towards us, all grinning at Mitchie, who blushed.

"By the way, I'm Caitlyn, and that's Mitchie." Caitlyn told me, "And you've probably heard of those three idiots." She waved her hand at the Connect Three boys.

"Hi, I'm Jools."

"How are we idiots?" Shane demanded, pouting. I stifled a giggle at his wounded expression.

"Yeah, Cait, that really hurt us." Nate said, pretending to wipe away a tear.

"Bet it hurt your egos too." I mumbled, and everyone laughed.

"We had better go; Brown wants to see us about performing later." Nate said, and they left after Shane had promised Mitchie a canoe ride after Opening Night Jam. Well, at least I had something to do when I wasn't failing miserably at every subject, canoeing always looks fun in movies and stuff, especially when the people go in circles……And that meant there was a lake I could drown myself in if things got really embarrassing…..

"What cabin are you in?" Mitchie asked me as I once again gathered up my fallen luggage.

"Er, Cabin 58." I replied, glancing down at the sheet I still had clutched in my hand.

"Hey, that's ours!" Caitlyn exclaimed, waving her and Mitchie's timetables in the air excitedly.

"I remember Shane saying something about 'older students bunking with younger ones to make them feel more at home'." Mitchie recalled suddenly, explaining why I was sharing with two girls who were both older than ne by at least two years.

"Well, at least you don't have to bunk with Tess." Caitlyn said as we walked along the path to the cabins.

"Who?" I asked, having no idea who Tess was.

"Tess is the diva of Camp Rock." Mitchie explained to me. "Her mum is TJ Tyler-"

"Wow!" I had heard of TJ too. Mitchie laughed.

"Yeah, I know, I was incredulous at first as well when I found out."

"So what's so bad about Tess?" There were some divas in my school back home, and they all seemed nice to me, just slightly obsessed with Abercrombie and looking 'perfect'.

"When I first came here, last year, she intimidated me – I wanted to be noticed, to be popular. So I spun a story about how my mum was president of HotTunes TV in China. She isn't, she's the cook here, that's the only reason I could afford to come-" That explained the catering van "- And Tess found out and spilled the secret. I wasn't well liked for a while, although I defiantly deserved it."

"Then she performed an amazing song at Final Jam and made Shane forgive her for lying to him." Caitlyn put in.

"You and Shane?" I was impressed; not only at Mitchie's story, but also at how she managed to bag the fittest guy in show business. Mitchie blushed crimson again, and Caitlyn laughed, leading us up another path to a wooden hut with '58' written on it.

"They both really like each other but won't admit it."

"Excuse me, pot calling the kettle black?!" demanded Mitchie, "What about you and Nate?" Now it was Caitlyn's turn to blush.

"Oh, shut up." She muttered, and pushed open the door to our cabin. "So, Jools, got anyone special back home?" Caitlyn asked me.

"Don't change the subject!" protested Mitchie, then – "So, do you?" I laughed.

"No. I didn't have many friends back home, or a big family – it was always just me, mum and Dave."

"Your younger brother?"

"My stepdad. He's from Utah, so when he and my mum got engaged they decided to move out here after the wedding, with me in tow."

"Do you miss Britain?" Caitlyn asked, "What's England like, anyway?"

"It's rainy, wet, cloudy or cold for most of the year, but it isn't a bad place to live. I don't really have all that much to miss, except for maybe my old room, which was funky." I replied, dropping my bags on the bed nearest the window, which had a nice, green view of some nice, green trees.

"Hey, where are your instruments, or do you just play piano?" Mitchie inquired suddenly, noticing that I didn't have anything remotely musical with me.

"I don't have any, and I don't play piano." I confessed, knowing my ears were turning red underneath my mousy hair.

"So you sing or produce?" asked Caitlyn. I shook my head.

"Nope, not at all. I actually know nothing about music or how to write or play it."

"No offense, but why on Earth are you here?" Caitlyn asked. Both she and Mitchie looked mystified.

"I moved out here a week ago, the day after Dave and mum's wedding. They wanted to honeymoon in California, on their own, and thought I'd like to come here for the summer." I explained. "I did some research on this place, and found out how talented the kids here are. I told mum I'd be out of my depth, but it was too late to cancel, so I had to come."

"So…… You have absolutely no music skills whatsoever, and you're at a camp for musical talent, right?" Mitchie clarified. I nodded.

"You can laugh if you want, I won't mind." I assured them. Mitchie and Caitlyn looked at each other, and Caitlyn had a gleam in her eye. Mitchie grinned, her own eyes sparkling.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Caitlyn asked her friend, glancing at me.

"Oh, I think so." Mitchie replied, looking excited and like she had just had the best idea in history. "We'll need Shane, Jason and Nate's help though, don't you think? And maybe Brown." I started to get slightly worried.

"Erm, what are you two on about?" I asked, looking from one girl to the other.

"We are thinking that by the time the end of camp this year, we will have made you the best musician in your new hometown." was the answer.


	3. Shane's Read What?

**Hey**

**Thank you so much, all you awesome reviewers and alerters! And thanks to Rhi for letting me mess up msn! HeadOverJonas4Life, this one's for you. (Rhi you get the next one :D) **

**Oh yeah....... I own Jools and the plotline, not Camp Rock or Converse or anything to do with Stephanie Meyer. Don't sue.**

Shane's Read _What_?

_[Previously]_

"_B__y the time the end of camp this year, we will have made you the best musician in your new hometown." _

"Whaaaaaaaat?" I demanded, eyebrows hitting the ceiling and jaw hitting the floor. "How, if you don't mind me asking, are you going to do that?" Mitchie and Caitlyn laughed at my expression, and Mitchie pulled me down on her bed.

"We are going to do that by getting Jason to teach you guitar and Nate to teach you music theory. Brown, hopefully, will teach you how to sing, at least in tune – you probably have all three of them for teachers anyway?" I nodded. "Shane is a great dancer and drummer, and Mitchie and I will teach you how to play the piano and create your own unique style. I think between all of us, we have the basics covered." Caitlyn replied, looking at Mitchie as she said the last sentence, and Mitchie nodded.

"I think we've thought of it all. So, Jools, are you up for it?" Mitchie asked me. I considered for a minute. It would be cool to play my own songs and know exactly why there were always so many dots and random squiggles on sheet music, now I came to think about it. But then again –

"How do you know I'm not one of those people who can't grasp music at all, and has a voice like a drowning cat? Plus, how did you two think that whole idea up in about three seconds?"

"We don't know if you're naturally gifted or not, but it's defiantly worth a try, don't you think? And, call Jason Alice Cullen, but he said himself a few months back that it would be fun if someone with no musical skills whatsoever came to Camp Rock and was taught how to become the next big thing in showbiz while they were here. Mitchie and I liked the idea so much we even discussed who would teach what. Then we decided we were dreaming on a bit, but agreed to keep our eyes open anyway. And now you're here, and we're excited!" Was Caitlyn's answer.

"Wow. You've read _Twilight_?" I hadn't had Caitlyn down for one to read lots; she struck me as a more of a spend-all-her-time-on-her-laptop sort of person.

"Yeah, Shane got me into them. So, you up for learning to rock?" Caitlyn responded, shrugging. Well, I just couldn't say no now that she had told me Shane liked Stephanie Meyer, could I?

"Yeah, I'm up for it. On one condition."

"Yes?"

"I don't have to wear anything covered in glitter, sparkles or Lycra. I do have a bit of pride."

"Thank you!" I was engulfed in a massive, bone-crushing hug on both sides as Caitlyn and Mitchie threw their arms around me, almost knocking the breath out of me.

"Guys, I'm going into respiratory arrest!"

Laughing, my new music teachers let go of me.

"What are we sitting here for?" exclaimed Mitchie, leaping off her bed, causing Caitlyn and I to fall of the other end, "We have so much work to do! Jools, what sort of clothing do you like? And what's your favourite type of makeup?"

"I'm not all that girly, to be honest. I don't have any makeup except for Lypsil. I wear jeans and t-shirts mostly, and I like Converse."

"That's fine, we can work with that. Show us what you've got with you."

An hour and a half later, my drab summer wardrobe had been transformed into a sassy, pretty-in-a-casual-way closet, and Caitlyn had given me a pair of chequered laces for my Converse. My straight, mousy, boring hairdo had been plaited, brushed, straightened, washed, curled, and had been clipped up into styles I hadn't previously known it was capable of.

I looked……..new. And improved, kind of like the re-vamped version of Beat It, just without Pete Wentz. I looked good, actually, more…full of life, if that makes any sense.

"Ohmigosh, I have to go help in the kitchen!" Mitchie shrieked, looking at the clock and realising the time. "I'm sorry guys, I have to go - I'll see you later, at Opening Night Jam!"

"We'll come too, Jools hasn't met Connie yet…… Connie Torres is Mitchie's mother, the greatest cook to ever enter Camp Rock's kitchens…… Seriously, it tasted like _sick_ before she came." Caitlyn told me.

"I'd love to meet Connie." I told Mitchie honestly, "And I have faith in her awesome cooking."

Ten minutes later, I was standing in front of a wavy-haired lady with Mitchie's eyes, who was introducing herself as Connie Torres, camp caterer.

"Pleased to meet you, Connie. I've heard good things about your food." I told her sincerely, shaking her outstretched hand.

"Thank you dear. Mitchie, could you please ice those cookies?" Connie motioned to the tray of biscuits (yeah, I speak differently, don't laugh) that were sitting on the counter.

"Oh, I've got them," I assured her, quickly washing my hands then grabbing the bowel of icing standing next to the tray.

"That would be a big help, if you don't mind. Caitlyn, Mitchie, please go and set the tables in the mess hall." Connie replied, getting started on a huge pile of washing up that seemed to have evaded the washing machine, which was whirring away around my knees.

"So, Jools, when did you move out from England?" asked Connie as she scrubbed plates.

"It was a week ago today, I think."

"Wow, you came over pretty recently – shouldn't you be settling in right now, getting used to the States with your family?"

"It's kind of a long story. You see, my mother got remarried the day before we moved, and Dave, my stepdad, is from Utah. His family still live there, but he moved to England ten years ago, and hadn't been back since. Mum wanted to honeymoon in California, but couldn't leave me on my own. So we decided to move the day after they got married, spend a week sorting the house out, and then I could come here while they jetted off to California."

"I see. So what instruments do you play?"

"I don't play any. Did Mitchie tell you about her and Caitlyn's dream of teaching a random person how to play guitar?" Connie laughed.

"Yes, she did. Have you agreed to it?"

"Yep. It would be so nice to come home after the summer and say I've learnt something, and I heard a rumour that we might buy a piano from Dave's aunt – I want to see the looks on their faces when I play a well known piece to them and they actually know what it is I'm playing to them!"

As I finished talking the door swung open and Shane Gray walked in. Now I'm no fangirl type, but I felt myself go weak at the knees, and was grateful I could lean on the counter I was standing behind.

"It's Jools, isn't it?" Shane asked me, and I was pleased to find I nodded without looking like a complete prat. "Cool, I'm Shane. Mitchie told me about the whole dance thing, and I don't mind teaching you some moves – have you had any previous dancing experience?"

"No, normally I don't dance at all for fear of having inherited two left feet from my mum."

"Ouch," Shane grinned, leaning on the counter also, "I have faith we can make you a dancer by the end of camp, though. You might just surprise yourself."

"I'll hold you to that. And just so you know, I bear no responsibility if I injure anyone at all."

"That's fine, Brown's insured." I remembered Mitchie telling me about how Brown Cesario, my singing teacher, was Shane's uncle and owned Camp Rock. "Oh, I spoke to Jason and Nate, they said they'd be fine with giving you extra lessons if you want." I blushed slightly, and thought for a second.

"Isn't that favouritism?"

"Not if you're completely out of your depth. If you're that behind it's basically just extra tuition."

"I'll be needing that… I'll wait until they've both seen me in class, though, then they'll know what to expect."

"You can't be as bad as I was when I first started to sing. Honestly, I sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Are you coming to Opening Night Jam?" Shane asked.

"Yes, Mitchie made me promise I'd come and 'survey the spotlight'."

"I'll see you there then."


	4. New Experiences Are Had By All

**Yay, I've finally managed to update! The reason it's taken a while involves a maths test and a certain someone's email inbox exploding.**

**Thank you to all my lovely reviwers and anyone who has clicked on/alerted this story, I love you.....in a non gay way.....**

**I hope I just made Rhi smile, you finally have your very own dedication :-D**

New Experiences Are Had By All

I stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. I was surrounded by people I didn't know, and felt like a child on her first day at a school where all the kids already knew each other. It was good to know I'd have the exact same feeling come September….

Mitchie saw my worried expression and smiled at me reassuringly.

"Come on," She said, taking my arm, "You'll get used to all the people soon enough, and in time you may even find you like some of them!" As she spoke a curly haired girl came over to us, beaming.

"Hey, Caitlyn, Mitchie! I haven't seen you two since _forever_! I love your outfit," She added, looking at me. I smiled self consciously; glad she liked my black skinny jeans, worn red Converse and dark red t-shirt with a lizard on the collar.

"Yeah, it has been ages since Christmas," Caitlyn agreed, grinning. "Oh, and Lola, this is Jools."

"Pleased to meet you." Lola told me, "Are you performing this evening?" She asked the group at large.

"Nah, but I think Connect Three are." Mitchie replied, and right on cue, Dee took to the stage, waving her hands for quiet.

"As it's still the start of camp and some of you may need inspiring after a hard year at school," There were murmurs of agreement at this statement, "We have managed to get some successful and amazing ex-Camp Rockers to perform for us tonight!"

"Well, I wouldn't say we're ex rockers just yet," I heard a voice say, and the crowd whooped as Connect 3 ran up on stage, instruments in hands. "Hey you guys," Shane continued, grinning at the crowd, "We played this here last year, but we've always been told it's inspirational. For those of you who weren't here a year ago, this is called 'Play My Music."

The song was catchy and also very motivating – and it was all about music and the feeling it gave you. The feeling I hoped I would know and understand by the end of camp.

The rest of the evening went quickly, simply because there was so much to see and do! The records, guitars and signed t-shirts on the walls set the Mess Hall away from all other halls in any other camp, and the atmosphere was like one at a live show – electric.

After some other performers had done their pretty amazing stuff, and people were starting leave to go to bed, I noticed a sign with 'Final Jam' written on it, and a list where people had written their names underneath. I didn't know what Final Jam was, but made up my mind to ask about it later – maybe it was a big deal or something…

* * *

"Caitlyn, what's Final Jam?" I asked as we walked back to our cabin, yawning.

"I can't _believe_ we haven't told you!" She exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks for a second, all tiredness forgotten.

"Told her what?" Mitchie had been plodding along behind us, lost in her own world.

"What Final Jam is." I said, and Mitchie stopped too, looking amazed.

"We _haven't_ told you about the most incredible night here at Camp Rock?"

"No. Should you have?" I was starting to get worried about what I didn't know.

"Final Jam is what we work for all summer. On the last night here, a bunch of acts perform a song in front of the rest of camp, our parents and a panel of judges. At the end of the night, the act the judges like best gets a trophy. Last year, Connect Three judged and the winner also got to record with Shane." Mitchie informed me.

Wow. Final Jam was a big deal, then.

* * *

The next day bought with it new experiences, that was for sure. My first lesson was Beginner's Guitar, with Jason. My first problem was that I didn't actually have a guitar to play on. My second was that every other student in my class I could see did have a guitar to play on - and could actually play it, and well.

Half way through a red haired girl's version of Umbrella (that was way better than the original), Jason himself walked in and several guitars slung over his shoulder or clutched in his hand.

A hush fell over the class, which Jason seemed happy to break, putting down the instruments he had been holding.

"Okay, guys, each of you grab a guitar and start playing what you know. I'll come round and see how much each of you can do, and we can go from there." he told us, then Umbrella started up again, along with a bunch of other songs, some I recognised, some I didn't. I picked up one of the guitars Jason had set down, and took it out of the case carefully – how much did these things cost?

Half an hour later, I had discovered three things. One, the dark brown guitar I was strumming was an acoustic. Two, playing it was a lot harder than it looked. And three, I didn't have to worry about it, because Jason had realised that most of the people in the Beginner's class weren't actually beginner's at all – he sent them to administration to be put in a lesson of their level. That had left just me, two other girls and one guy.

"This should be an interesting class," Jason said cheerfully, once the last person had left to go to admin. He, unlike the other four of us, seemed perfectly comfortable in a small group, unlike the rest of us. It seemed to me that he could adjust in just about any situation, no matter what the circumstances. "As there are only five of us, we should probably get to know each other a bit - I'm Jason."

"I'm Eliza." A curly haired girl told us, smiling. I immediately liked her; she gave off those happy vibes some people just seem to carry around with them.

"I'm Jools." I introduced myself.

"Tess," A blonde said, and I wondered if this was the Tess Caitlyn and Mitchie had mentioned, she seemed about the right age.

"Hey, didn't you perform at Final Jam last year?" Jason asked suddenly, looking at Tess.

"Yeah, I did – I was part of the It Girls."

"Tess Tyler," Jason recalled, and Tess blushed slightly. So this _was_ Tess. Interesting.

"I'm Mickey," the guy said, flicking his blondish hair away from his face as he spoke.

_Hello, future rockstar,_ I thought immediately, and remembered that old song, 'Oh Mickey You're So Fine'. It was a favourite pastime of my mother's to dance around our living room in England to an '80's classic. I giggled at the memory of mum boogying and everyone looked at me, but I was spared the embarrassment of having to explain by Jason, who chose that very moment to clap his hands together excitedly.

"Well, now we all now each other, let's get down to the instruments. When I came round the classroom earlier, it seemed to me that you four were the only ones who have never played before. Am I right? We all nodded. "In that case, we'll start at the complete beginning. You are all holding acoustic guitars. They're different form electric but you can plug some to amps if you're playing live….."

The lesson continued, and I was shocked when the bell that signaled meals rang, telling us to go to lunch.

I had a two day timetable, with one lesson in the morning and one in the afternoon, so we had lots of time to learn, plus the classrooms were open all the time, so if I ever wanted to practice out of lesson time I could.

I was told all this by Eliza, whose sister had been here last year –

"But she has flu right now, and as I'm finally old enough to come, I got her slot!" she told me as we ate lunch. Caitlyn and Mitchie had mentioned they were working on a new song, and might not be eating at the normal time. Caitlyn had said that once Mitchie let the music take her, she was gone until the song had finished – so I could expect to see her sometime next week if I was lucky. Caitlyn's words, not mine.

"Cool," I said to Eliza, "So what other classes are you taking?"

"Intermediate Singing, Beginner's Dance and Music Theory Grade Three."

"Great, I'm in Beginner's dance as well. You already know some stuff then?" I asked.

"Yeah, I play piano and sing." she shrugged. "What about you?"

"Just started learning guitar, and I'm starting singing, dance and music theory here as well."

"Cool, I can give you a hand on piano if you want."

"That would be great," I was relived that I had made a friend on my first proper day at camp, and it wasn't because I had knocked into her either.

My next lesson was Music Theory, Grade One. Luckily, everyone in this class was the exact same level – the most anyone knew was how to read music, which, I discovered, was really easy; all you had to do was remember the rhymes and you were fine. The clefs weren't difficult once you knew which was bass and which was treble. My only problem was time signatures. What was with the fractions?

"They're not fractions," Laughed Nate when I threw my pencil down in frustration, "They tell you how many beats are in a bar." Oh.

The funniest occurrence of the entire day, though, was Caitlyn's reaction when I told her Tess Tyler was learning guitar at dinner.

"_She's __**learning something**__** worthwhile**__?"_ she had gasped, after picking herself up from the floor, where she had landed after falling off her chair with shock.

"Yeah. She seemed pretty nice too." Now it was Mitchie's turn to gape.

"_Nice?! _Jools, are you sure this is the Tess Tyler we told you about?"

"That girl over there." I pointed to Tess, who was walking across the hall as I spoke.

"That's Tess all right." Caitlyn muttered, looking at the blonde. "Wow." She could find absolutely nothing else to say on the matter. Seriously. I had left Caitlyn speechless, something that, Nate told me, was extremely rare.


	5. I'm Told I Look Good On The Dancefloor

**Sorry I took so long to update, life has been way too busy recently. On the plus side, I aced my maths test! And, since it is now December, I'm not allowed to complain about the amount of Christmas songs on the radio, I can just sing them far too loudly.**

**I don't own Camp Rock, Porsche, McFly, Umberella, Manic Street Preachers, Enrique Iglesias (I wish), Dance Wiv Me, Oh Mickey You're So Fine, or anything else I may have mentioned that isn't Jools or anything not originaly connected with any of the above. That make sense? It didn't to me either.....**

I'm Told I Look Good on the Dancefloor

Day two at Camp Rock: Dance lessons. Shane hurried into the classroom five minutes late, running straight to the massive CD player sitting in the corner.

"He was probably straightening his hair," Eliza whispered to me when Shane apologised for being late. I opened my mouth to giggle, but was interrupted by the music Shane had turned on. The song had been a big hit in England; it was called Dance Wiv Me, by Dizzee Rascal featuring Calvin Harris and Chrome. While I marveled at having remembered the name of the song _and _who sung it, people around me had started dancing, letting the beat take them.

"Just freestyle," Shane called out, "And we can see what we all know." I was a bit hesitant at randomly dancing in front of a bunch of strangers, but Shane was starting to groove, so I sort of wiggled my shoulders and….

* * *

"Excellent, Jools, you're a natural!" Shane told me as I finished my solo, grinning. The music had changed to Push by Enrique Iglesias, and the group had formed a circle, with one person coming forward at a time to strut their stuff.

I hadn't realised just how easy freestyle dance really was… I wouldn't need extra tuition in _this_ subject, that was sure!

Being shy and quite reserved, I had never volunteered myself for any dance classes at home – even when I was five or six, my morbid fear of other people had stopped me going to ballet classes, although I will admit I did love the whole pink polished image it gave off.

But this stuff, it was easy. Like walking around or having a conversation – which, once I joined infant **(A/N: Kindergarten to 5th I think, I dunno, I'm English)** school, I found I quite enjoyed.

The guy from mine and Eliza's guitar class, Mickey, was in this group as well, and stepped into the circle as I left it. If I had energy, he had the force of a Porsche 911 Turbo, not stopping until the song ended, and getting applause from everyone, including Shane.

"You were all amazing today; I think everyone in here has natural talent." Shane told us as we neared the end of the lesson. "Tomorrow I'll teach you some more moves, and we can have a go at some choreographed dances, to different music – does anyone have any suggestions?" a bunch of hands went up, and songs by artists from My Chemical Romance to Eminem or The Beatles got suggested. Shane dismissed us with a wave of his hand, saying he would see what he could find.

I had said goodbye to Eliza and was walking back to my cabin to change when Mickey stepped off a path from the trees, making me jump about a foot in the air.

"You're Jools, right?" he asked, falling into pace with me.

"Yeah." I answered, wondering what on Earth he wanted, since I really wanted a shower and food. Dancing is harder than it looks on TV, I can tell you that for nothing.

"You're in my guitar class." Mickey continued, grinning. I was now starting to get a little bit annoyed. Had he ever heard of cutting to the heart of the matter?

"Yes, I am in your guitar class, I'm glad you noticed. Now can you please tell me exactly what you're getting at?" I had stopped walking by this time, and almost felt like putting my hands on my hips and telling him to stick it where the sun don't shine. Mickey stopped to, and really did put his hands on his hips. I thought only girls did that?

"I was simply wondering why you giggled when I said my name." Oh, that. Couldn't he have just asked yesterday?

"Have you ever heard the song 'Oh Mickey You're So Fine?" I was surprised to see him colour slightly.

"Uh, yeah, I was actually named after it." I snorted. Well, it's not every day you hear someone say they got named after some random '80's song. "But what about you? Your full name can't be Jools." I stopped smiling immediately.

"It's Juliet." I didn't like the way this conversation was going.

"After?" Mickey prompted.

"Er… I'm not sure. But –"

"Isn't that French for July?" Mickey interrupted me. "Or were your parents' big literature freaks?" I had had enough.

"I have no idea what your problem is, and I really don't care. I giggled when you said your name because it bought back good memories of my mother, _not_ because I thought you the biggest prat here. Although now I _do_ think you're the biggest prat here, since you can't seem to stop insulting people, even when they explain that they weren't actually laughing at you, they were laughing at something that has absolutely nothing to do with you. Now please excuse me, I have _better_ things to do than stand here arguing with an _idiot_." then I turned on my heel and stormed away, not looking back.

* * *

"Jools, what's wrong?" Mitchie asked as I sat in our cabin angrily strumming one of Mitchie's guitars, while she did her hair and Caitlyn hogged the bathroom.

"I got in an argument with a guy in my guitar and dance class." I replied, not pausing playing for a second, "He wanted to know why I laughed when he said his name, I told him, he insulted my parents, then I yelled him and stormed away."

"_Ouch_." Mitchie looked sympathetic. "Did you find him and apologise?" I shook my head.

"I've been in here since we were told singing got cancelled." Brown had contracted a cold that had made him lose his voice, which was fine, except he was teaching singing. According to the nurse, it was a freaky twenty-four hour bug thing, and he should be teaching again tomorrow. I had spent the free time taking my anger out on Mitchie's guitar, practicing the chords Jason had taught us with probably more force than was needed.

"What's up?" Caitlyn asked finally coming out of the bathroom and seeing my face.

"Argument with a jerk." I told her what had happened, and Caitlyn looked at me thoughtfully.

"You know, I never had you down as someone to really yell at someone like that."

"I don't usually go in for the screaming thing." I admitted, feeling guiltier by the second. "I'm usually more of a talk it out person." Yeah, usually…. What had come over me? "Okay, I can't take it anymore, I'm going to apologise." I stood up and handed Mitchie her guitar back. "I'll see you guys at dinner."

Finding Mickey was easier said than done, though. I couldn't find him in any of the classrooms, the mess hall or around any of the cabins. I ended up down by the lake, and sat heavily down on the gravel. Watching the rippling water, I remembered that McFly song – Down By The Lake.

"_Well, you better get up, 'cause your dad is awake, said he saw you last night making down by the lake, with the boy that he hates…_"I sang softly.

"That's not a bad song." I heard someone say, and jumped again. I whipped around and saw Mickey standing there, hands in his pockets. I was about to ask him what he was doing here when I remembered we were on public ground and I wanted to say sorry.

"Thanks." I said, taking a deep breath and standing up. "Look, about earlier. –"

"Don't worry about it." Mickey interrupted me. "I shouldn't have been so rude to you about laughing."

"Yeah, I shouldn't have yelled like that." I confessed.

"Don't worry about it." Mickey repeated, smiling suddenly. "What song were you just singing? It sounded familiar." I was almost giddy with relief. I never was all that great at apologising. Let's just say I have a stubborn streak.

"It's called Down By The Lake, by McFly." I told him, as we walked back through the trees.

"Urgh. Those posers? My sister plays them all the time." Mickey replied, pulling a face. I thought he liked the song?

"I'm surprised you didn't recognise Down By The Lake then, it's one of their earliest." I replied, glancing at the ground as I spoke, making sure I didn't do a Bella Swan and end up in the dirt.

"I tend to-" Mickey said, but was cut off as I collided, once again, with another person.

"Ouch! I'm so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going!" the person gushed, and I realised it was Tess Tyler, the topic of much discussion. "Hey, you're Jools," Tess recognised us, "And Mickey, from Jason's class."

"Yep."

"Isn't it crazy how most of the people in there seemed to already know so much?" Tess said, accompanying us to dinner, "I would have felt completely stupid if I hadn't known we were in the beginner's class to start with." I immediately felt relived that I hadn't been the only one who had felt like that.

"Yeah, I almost walked out when I heard that girl's version of Umbrella." Mickey told us, "It was almost as good as the Manic Street Preachers version."

"Come off it, Rihanna's original rocked the house!" argued Tess, grinning.

"Oh, _puh-lease_. The Preacher's rule!" Mickey shot back.

"Don't worry about him, I think he has something against pop music." I told Tess, guessing Mickey probably wouldn't go down without a fight. I was right.

"At least Manic Street Preachers have _soul_."

"At least pop music doesn't hurt your ears." Tess and Mickey continued in this fashion - arguing – until we reached the Mess Hall.

Caitlyn and Mitchie were talking to Connect Three outside the hall, looking up when they heard us approach. I glanced around and saw Mickey had disappeared, leaving me, Tess, Mitchie, Caitlyn and my music teachers outside.

"Guys?" Tess asked timidly as Caitlyn and Mitchie stared at their one-time enemy, unsure of what to do, "Would it be all right if I sat with you?"


	6. Progress, Progress

Progess, Progress

_[Previously] _

_Guys?" Tess asked timidly as Caitlyn and Mitchie stared at their one-time enemy, "Would it be all right if I sat with you?"_

There was silence for what felt like forever, and Mitchie and Caitlyn had one of those think-about-it-quickly-then-look-at-everyone-else-to-see-if-they-feel-the-same expressions. In the end it was Jason who broke the silence.

"I'm fine with it." Nate nodded and so did Shane.

"Me too."

"Yeah."

Mitchie and Caitlyn looked at each other slowly, then both nodded. I guess whatever Tess did must have hit them hard.

"Thank you." Tess said, smiling. It was amazing how her whole face transformed when she smiled and it met her eyes. "You guys were great the other night, by the way. Better than last year."

"Thanks." Nate replied. "Glad you liked it." Hmm… Was he the songwriter of the group? Maybe he was the one who handled the business, sorting out meetings and stuff. Wait, isn't the manager the one who's organised?

"So, Mitchie, when are we going to hear this song you've been working on?" Shane asked when we were sitting eating – Caitlyn had insisted, although I was sure this was just because she thought she might need five people to hold her back if she decided to kill Tess, that I sat with her, Mitchie, Tess and Connect Three (can I have a fangirl moment please? Thanks. OhmyfreakinggoshthatisUNREAL!! CONNECT THREE!!! –passes out cold- Okay I'm done).

"Hopefully sometime in the next week, as long as I can sort some of the lyrics out, they've been bugging me." Mitchie replied.

"Maybe we can help." Tess suggested, trying to make conversation. "What's the song about?"

"Just being happy to be where you are, and with your friends." Mitchie answered shrugging.

"If I think of anything, I'll let you know," Tess said, smiling again. Mitchie and Caitlyn both smiled back, though a bit hesitantly. I then realised Tess looked more relived then I'd ever seen anyone be in my life. It _defiantly_ hit them hard.

* * *

I sat on my bed, looking out the window, chewing the top of my pen, wondering what to write. Since Camp Rock had no internet or mobile connection, the only way to keep in touch with family was by letter. Inspiration suddenly hit me, and I snatched up the notebook I'd dropped on the floor in frustration when I hadn't known what to put.

_Dear mum and Dave,_

_Life here at Camp Rock is excellent, thank you SO MUCH for deciding to honeymoon in California! So far I've made a few friends, and met some amazing people. You'll never believe it, but Connect Three are teaching here this summer!!! (Yes, mum, it is the exact same band you listen to all the time in the car. I also – cue mum fainting – have Connect Three as my music teachers – Nate does Music Theory, which I'm rubbish at, Shane teaches dance, which I love, and Jason is the guitar teacher. Guitar is so, so much harder than it looks, but I've been practicing on one of Mitchie's acoustics and I don't sound like someone being tortured anymore. Mitchie is one of the girls I'm sharing a cabin with and she's hilarious. So's Caitlyn, look out for her on the 'top music producers of the future' lists. _

_I've got to get myself a guitar sharpish once Camp Rock is over, and I'm considering asking Shane to teach me how to play drums as well. Don't worry, I don't need a drumkit yet!_

_I know I won't see you in a fortnight for parents' weekend, but can you please come to see Final Jam? I'd love to show you everything, the scenery here is beautiful. _

_Love you; hope CA still has lots of sun! (Not that I'm jealous, of course)_

_Jools_

_PS I addressed this to your hotel in California, so you better not have changed hotels since I last saw you!_

_PPS An acoustic guitar is a hollow one._

* * *

Over the next two weeks I worked like I never had done before. But, unlike most school work, I was enjoying it, and often sat up nearly all night practicing, forgetting the time.

I could now successfully strum 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' and hit the right chords the whole way through, as well as play the intro to 'Chelsea Dagger'. To my surprise, I knew how to read music and identify the different notes on a sheet of music and I was getting good at choreographed dance, able to do an entire routine to Flo Rida _and_ the Soulja Boy without a break. Trust me; the Soulja Boy is the weirdest dance on the planet, except maybe anything by Boney M.

The most amazing thing I learnt, though, was that I could sing. Well, sort of. The first singing lesson we had scared me half to death – we all had to sing a solo at least once. Thankfully, we got to pick a song we knew, and we also got given the lyrics, so the whole experience wasn't as excruciating as I'd thought it would be. I sang '1234' by Feist – I was convinced it was too high, but Brown persuaded me and said I sounded "quite good", so perhaps I wasn't too bad. Maybe just a little more practice?

I was also steadily making more friends, which, for me, was the best part of all. As well as Eliza and Mickey, I knew everyone's name in all my classes, and often jammed in the practice rooms with Mickey, Eliza and a guy from Music Theory called Matt, who was a complete legend with a bass guitar. He also had two left feet and couldn't hold a note to save his life, but didn't seem to care – he always sang twice as loud as everyone else, but nearly always just on the one note, so it always sounded like there was a buzzing in the background when we sang along to the music we played.

Parents' Weekend started Friday evening, and I was excited, even though I knew mum and Dave weren't going to be there. Eliza's parents and sister were coming up from their place in New Mexico, on their way to visit Eliza's grandmother in Nevada, and Mitchie's dad was coming up from their place in New Jersey, and I was eager to meet them – Eliza complained about her sister all the time!

Thursday afternoon, Brown dropped a bomb on Eliza and I when he found Eliza teaching me piano in one of the cabins.

"You two have come a long way in a few weeks." he told us, "So I think you can do a duet in the one of the cabins while the parents have a look round – you can show them how much you can learn by coming to Camp Rock."

"You're using us to get more students!" protested Eliza, but I knew we were both secretly thrilled – and scared witless.

"What're we supposed to play?" Eliza demanded when Brown had gone to yell at Shane for leaving his straighteners **(A/N: Flat Iron)** on when he rushed out to see Mitchie and subsequently setting the curtains on fire.

"I don't know." I leaned against the piano and thought about the limited amount of chords I knew.

"I could sing 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams'" suggested Eliza, "I'm sure I've got the lyrics somewhere."

"Alright then," I said, trying not to let my fear of playing in front of a live audience get the better of me, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams it is." _And let's just hope I don't freak and forget it all when we have to play at the weekend_, I added silently.


	7. It's a Cullen Camp?

**Yay! Next chapter! Sorry, I'm kinda hyper... I just got back from a crazy holiday in Scotland that was beautiful and windy, and I just read a fanfic that has made me smile A LOT. Oh yeah, go check out 'A Birdhouse Begining' (sp?) because it's awesome and will cheer you up if you have the short-day-and-long-night winter blues. Go plugging! And go to Edinburgh at Hogmanay, see Paolo Nutini and tell me how much he rocked!**

**Mickey's song here is 'Can't Cry' by The Script, and no other songs are mine... Etc, etc. Enjoy!**

**Another thing: I mentioned a washing machine in the first or second chapter. For those of you that care, I meant dishwasher.**

It's a Cullen Camp?

"_Sometimes I wish someone up there will find me, 'Til then I walk alone…_ Jools, I think we've got it!" Eliza exclaimed as she finished singing, and I broke into a grin, all tiredness forgotten for a second. We'd been rehearsing from when Brown had told us we'd be performing, until we knew what we were doing with 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams'. This had taken roughly all night. We had agreed that Eliza do vocals, as she had more experience, and I'd play guitar, as that was all I could do without sounding like an amateur. Well, I _was_ an amateur, but hopefully no one would notice.

"Okay then, let's go through it one more time, then I'm going to find breakfast." I said, yawning.

Ten minutes later, we stumbled in the door of the mess hall, Eliza immediately collapsing at the piano.

"Hey, Jools," Mickey greeted me as I pulled Eliza to her feet and dragged her over to the two empty seats where Mickey was sitting next to Matt. "How's the song coming?"

"Great, but I'm _so_ freaking tired I can't move," I replied, putting my head on the table and shutting my eyes. Mickey laughed and wafted toast under my nose. I found I could move enough to snatch the toast from him and shove it in my mouth before he could protest.

"Hey, I wanted that!"

"Tough. I'll see you later, I'm going to bed." I said, standing up and poking Eliza. "You coming?" Eliza grunted something and didn't move from her crumpled but sort of upright position and didn't open her eyes. "I'll take that as a no. See you around lunchtime?" And another grunt. Mickey laughed again and I somehow managed to get from our table to my cabin without falling asleep in the middle of the path.

* * *

"Jools? Why are you crashed out on the floor? And why didn't you come home last night?" Caitlyn's voice came from . . . above me? I opened my eyes to see Mitchie and Caitlyn leaning over me. _Right_ over me.

"Jeez, don't get so close to me!" I shrieked, jumping backwards and hitting my head on something hard. "Ow! Wait… I'm on the floor?"

"Yep."

"I was practicing all night and only got in this morning; I must have fallen asleep before I hit the bed."

"You were up all night? But I thought you're only doing the one song?" Mitchie inquired, pulling me to my feet.

"We are, but it was so difficult getting the timing right. I kept going too fast and Eliza tended to miss the chord she came in on."

"Nice." Caitlyn grinned, walking over to her dresser and grabbing a brush. "We'd better start getting ready, actually," she added, glancing at her wristwatch.

"Why, what time is it?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"Five o'clock, the parents should start arriving soon." Wait. What?

"_Five_?" I demanded, incredulous. "How did I sleep nine hours without realising?"

"You looked pretty tired," Mitchie replied, on her way to the bathroom. "We saw you come in to the mess hall. You looked like a zombie."

"I _felt _like a zombie. Hey, do I have to look posh or anything?" I wondered. "Is Parent's Weekend a big deal?"

"Yeah, but Final Jam is bigger." Caitlyn answered, "Blue or green?" she held up two different earrings.

"Green. So should I dress up?" Caitlyn suddenly lost interest in her clothes and her eyes lit up.

"Yes. Totally. I'll help." I laughed at her enthusiasm at wanting to make me look nice.

"Okay, you can help. Can I borrow one of your t-shirts?" But Caitlyn was rummaging through my wardrobe and draws, flinging clothes everywhere.

"Um, Caitlyn? I asked to borrow a top, not have my clothes thrown out the window."

"You don't need my clothes, you need – Aha!" she straightened up finally, holding my old deep blue blouse. "Just wear this with those - what do you call them?"

"Trousers. These ones?" I held up the purple chords she had chucked on my bed.

"Yes! Those! With the flip-flops you said you got in Somerset." I shuddered at the memory of going down south to stay with my cousins the previous summer. I liked my extended family well enough, but the continuous questions about my lack of social life had driven me up the wall. The flip-flops were cute, though.

"Okay, I guess that could work. Do you want me to cut all my hair off or dye it blue or something?"

"No. But when you go in the shower, wash it but leave it quite wet."

"What are you going to do to me and how do I know it will work?"

"You'll see, and I know it will work. Now get in that shower!" Caitlyn shoved me into the bathroom just as Mitchie came out of it.

"You'll have to change your name to . . . Alice Cullen!" I told her, but all I got was a bunch my clothes thrown at me. Some people these days – they're so convinced that they're always right.

Caitlyn _was _right, though. If I'd thought she had made my hair look nice when I'd first arrived, it was nothing compared to now. It was so, well, pretty.

I mean, I keep my hair clean and I brush it every day, but I never saw the point in doing fancy hairstyles just for school - it'll only unravel when you have a shower. But now I looked completely different. I had found a clip in the bottom of my bag with a flower on it that very nearly matched the flower on my flip-flops, and with Mitchie's help Caitlyn had twisted my hair so I looked like a girl out of one of those films with fairies in them… There were little and slightly annoying tendrils of hair falling down my face, and I'd put on a pair of silver hoop earrings which made the effect –

"_Perfect._" Mitchie announced as she and Caitlyn stood back to admire their handiwork. "Do you want to borrow my guitar?"

"Huh?" I thought she meant jewellery.

"You know, my guitar. It's in tune, and I'm not playing it tonight. Do you want to borrow it?"

"Oh! Yes, please. I'm asking for one for Christmas, I can't keep borrowing someone else's."

"There's this guitar shop in the town not far from here, and I think we can get out of here on weekends." Caitlyn suggested as she at last put on her earrings – the blue ones. "You could write to your parents and ask if they could send you some money."

"Yeah, maybe," I replied, grabbing Mitchie's acoustic. It didn't seem very likely, though, as Dave and mum had spent a fortune on Camp Rock and mum still needed to find a job to pay for the house in Salt Lake City. Weren't good guitars really expensive?

"I'll see you two later; I've got to find Eliza." I said, opening the door. "Oh, hey Nate, Caitlyn's in there." I stood back to let him through, then legged it down the steps find Eliza, hoping she hadn't done what I had and crashed on her bed for nine hours…

"Hey, Jools,"

"Hey, Mickey," I grinned, falling into the cabin I had spotted Eliza, Mickey and Matt in.

"Where have you been all day?" Mickey asked me, moving his guitar off a chair so I could sit on it.

"On my cabin floor, asleep."

"Haha, _vampire._"

"Shut up, Michael."

"Since when has my name been Michael?"

"Since now."

"Jools!" Eliza had seen me. "What took you so long? I was about to come and find you!"

"Caitlyn decided she wanted to do my hair." Mickey snorted.

"Caitlyn's mad. You look nice though."

"Thanks. Eliza, are we performing in here?"

"Uh-huh. Is your guitar tuned?"

"Yes, I borrowed Mitchie's."

"Excellent. You really need to see if you can get hold of your own." Eliza told me, absentmindedly playing a few notes on the piano sitting n the corner.

"I know." I bit my lip, thinking back to what Caitlyn had said earlier. Would I really be able to find one I could afford?

"Thinking of cost?" Mickey asked me knowingly. Could he read minds? Great, there was an Alice and now an Edward. Who would be Rosalie? Tess?

"Yeah, a bit." I replied.

"The shop in town does some good deals; you might be able to get a bargain. That's where my brother got this from." he nodded at his own beaten up guitar. I remembered he was in the Beginners' Class as well, something that had slipped my mind for a minute. Mickey was hardly away from his guitar, but it was quite old, so it made sense for someone else in his family to have owned it before him.

"Maybe." I wasn't convinced, though.

"You know that song I've been working on?" Mickey asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah? How's it coming?"

"Great, I've managed to put a few lyrics to it."

"Let's hear then." I sounded like Hermione Granger. Mickey strummed a few chords, then -

"_Jenny was a poor girl  
Living in a rich world  
Named her baby Hope when she was just fourteen  
She was hoping for a better world  
For this little girl  
But the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree_

_Well she gets that call  
Hope's too far gone  
Her baby's on the way  
But nothing left inside  
Together __we cry."_

As he finished, it suddenly occurred to me that I had never heard Mickey sing, but he had quite a good voice – kind of like a smoker's voice, but better. Think Ian Watkins from Lostprophets – I'm sure he's on YouTube somewhere. Anyway, Mickey sounded like that but without a Welsh accent. The song, though, was something else. It was so… deep. And there had probably only been about a dozen lines in the whole thing! **(A/N: I'll laugh so hard if you just went back and counted those lines. I'll laugh harder if you do now I've written that.)**

"Mickey, that was-" I didn't get to finish, though, because at that moment the cabin door opened to reveal a short, brown haired lady and a man with grey hair and a business suit.

"Excuse us, but we heard music coming from in here." The lady said, smiling at us. "Could we please hear some more?"

"Sure." Eliza beamed at the lady. "Jools, you ready?" I picked up my guitar and went to sit next to her. "Like we practiced." Eliza muttered as I met her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Okay. One, two, three, four."

"_I walk a lonely road  
The only one that I have ever known  
Don't know where it goes  
But its home to me and I walk alone_."

_I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
When the city sleeps  
And I'm the only one and I walk alone_

_I walk alone  
I walk alone_

_I walk alone_

_My shadow's only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone_

_Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah,  
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah_

_I'm walking down the line  
That divides me somewhere in my mind  
On the border line  
Of the edge and where I walk alone_

_Read between the lines  
What's messed up and everything's alright  
Check my vital signs  
And know I'm still alive and I walk alone_

_I walk alone  
I walk alone_

_I walk alone_

_My shadow's only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
Til then I walk alone_

_Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah  
Ah-ah, Ah-ah_

_I walk alone  
I walk a..._

_I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
When the city sleeps  
And I'm the only one and I walk a..._

_My shadow's only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone_."

We finally finished our slightly abbreviated version of the song (Brown made us change the 'what's messed up' bit) with a whole lot of relief – we had done it! It had worked! I felt so light headed I could have flown… Well, jumped off a cliff and realised to late I didn't have wings, which is almost the same as flying, if you're a Maximum Ride fan.

Our audience – Matt, Mickey, and the two strangers – clapped hard.

"That was amazing, girls." The man said to us, "You must have worked extremely hard to get that so amazing."

"You have no idea," I said, just as Eliza assured him,

"It was nothing, really." We looked at each other and laughed.

I hadn't had time to be nervous, what with practicing all night and then falling asleep and getting my hair done, but then the full force of what we had pulled off hit me. (Can I have another crazy moment? Thanks again. YES!!!!!!!RESULT!!!! – Punches air and does happy dance – That's all I needed, I'm done now!)

When the couple had left, Eliza and I celebrated by going a bit hyper and hugging everyone, shrieking a _little_ bit. Okay_, a lot_. Well, it was a big deal for us both, neither one of us had ever performed a live song before, on our own.

"Shall we take the stuff outside? It's a warm evening, you two can play on the grass," Matt suggested, so we packed up our stuff and plonked ourselves down on the ground, sitting on our jackets and guitar cases.

The rest of the evening passed like a dream; crazy and happy at the time, but none of us could remember it properly afterwards. All Connect 3 passed by us at least once, and Tess sat with us for a while, joining in Boulevard of Broken Dreams. We didn't do much, really, just jammed and messed about and chatted to some people who stopped to listen.

"Hey, Mickey," I said as the sun started to go down over the lake, turning the sky blood red.

"Yeah?"

"The song you played earlier, it was incredible. I never knew you could sing."

"Thanks, I think… I grew up in the wrong side of town, and I've seen some good stuff and a lot of bad stuff, so I thought about that and just went form there."

"It's good; I could tell it came from the heart." I replied.

"Jools, shall we play Boulevard of Broken Dreams one more time?" Eliza asked. "For luck?"

"Alright then," I said grinning. "I'm going to be sick of this song if we're not careful, though."

"We'll do something completely different tomorrow," Eliza promised. "One, two, three, four..." And we went from there, playing what I would say was our best performance so far.

"Jools, that was a brilliant," a voice I recognized said behind me, and I whipped around, unable to believe my ears.

"Mum! Dave! What are you doing here?" I yelled, leaping off the ground and hugging them both.

"We're listening to you play guitar, we've _never_ heard you before." Dave smirked.

"_Haha_," I was all too used to Dave's 'sarcasm'. "I mean what are you doing at Camp Rock?"

"We came to see you, and the sights, and give you this." Mum replied, and I noticed she was holding an envelope. "Go on, open it."

"Is it your will?" I joked, slightly worried about what it actually was. Why else would they travel from California to Camp Rock? On their honeymoon?

"Just open it." Mum rolled her eyes. Slowly, aware that most of my friends were watching, I opened the envelope with trembling fingers. There was a rectangular slip of paper inside, with the words 'United States Music Corporation' on it **(A/N: I made the name up, drop me a PM or review if it actually exists)**. It was one of those voucher thingies, where you paid a few quid and got a slip of paper or a card saying you had the same amount of money for that specific shop only. I had only seen these advertised – we never seemed to have enough money back home to buy money for other people. This was more than a few quid, though.

"_Two hundred dollars_?!" I gasped, unable to believe what I was seeing. "Eliza, does that say two hundred dollars?" I had to check.

"That says two hundred." She confirmed. I ran the maths through in my head. Two hundred dollars was about the same as two hundred pounds, right?

"Are you kidding me?" I demanded, staring at my mother and step-dad, convinced I was hallucinating. "Pinch me." I said to Mickey.

"Okay." He poked me hard in the shoulder.

"_Ow_." So I wasn't dreaming. "But, but…." I stuttered.

"We decided to come and see you when you wrote to us." Mum explained to me. "Brown told us how much you've learnt in just a few weeks, so we went to the shop in town to see if we could get anything for you. We found a shop filled with musical instruments, but decided to let you choose for yourself what to get."

"Looks like you're going to get that guitar you were after." Mickey said, chuckling at my shocked expression.

I had to sit down to get my head around it all.


	8. Riot at Camp Rock

**I looked at the last update date for this story, and I was appalled to find that it was the day before Christmas Eve. And tomorrow's Single's Awarness Day. **

***cringes***

**I'M SORRY!!!!!!!**

**I went back through the story in the New Year and changed a word here and there to make it flow better, but then got a huge and annoying bout of writer's block. In my absence I started a Twlight parody which has been called genius, so if you're a Twilight fan please go read and review! Anyway, here is chapter eight or nine, I can't remember. Has it been that long? Gah...**

**'SmallLean' isn't mine, it's by 100 Monkey's. That's Monroe Jackson Rathbone's band. If you want to know more, Google them - they have amazing music and amazing hair. **

**Please read and review if you like this chapter!**

* * *

Riot at Camp Rock

"Hey, Shane? Please can you do me a favour?"

"Sure, what is it?" I had hung back after dance because I had remembered that Mitchie and Caitlyn's original idea was "To make you the best musician in your new hometown". And, since I was doing so well at all my other subjects (yes, even Music Theory!), I had decided that trying my hand at learning another instrument couldn't hurt.

"I was wondering… Mitchie said you can play drums?" Shane grinned, catching on in a second.

"Of course I can show you some stuff, I haven't forgotten Caitlyn begging me to give you extra tuition, even though you don't need it. Just don't hold me responsible if you drag a drum kit home after the summer and your parents don't like the noise!"

"Thanks," I grinned also, then a thought struck me. "You know, Shane Gray the jerk would have told me to get lost."

"I know." Shane looked thoughtful, possibly remembering, as I was, the press coverage of the infamous skinny latte incident. "So, how are you liking Camp Rock so far?"

"It's unbelievable." I replied honestly. "I've been here…Not even three weeks? It feels like forever, and it feels as though I've only been here three seconds. I never thought I could do all this performance stuff before, though."

"You never know unless you try." Shane agreed. "When are you free?"

"Um… No idea."

"Okay, I'll find a time I can do and get back to you."

* * *

"Jools, I have good news!" Mitchie announced, bursting into our cabin, smiling big.

"You've finally told Shane you love him!" I exclaimed, springing up from my bed and hugging her. It had become a joke between me and Caitlyn as to who could annoy Mitchie more about her refusing to tell Shane how she felt about him. Talk about turning into Max Ride… Can we say lack of communication?

"No, I haven't, but I'm going to talk to him on the lake today. I wanted to tell you that Brown has given us permission to go into town this weekend and get you a guitar. Jason offered to come, as he knows your style of playing best."

"Yeah, he can come if he wants," I said vaguely, more interested in the fact I was going to get my very own musical instrument in just a few days time. Then I could stop borrowing Mitchie's and get round to putting chords to some lyrics I had thought of at Parents' Weekend. I could hardly wait…..

I won't go into details of buying my guitar. Mainly because I can't remember most of it, I was more concerned with the actual lovely instrument I had wanted since I had first laid eyes on it, seconds after stumbling through the shop door. That sounded very cheesy, didn't it? My guitar, my imprint, my sole reason for living, the Edward to my Bella, my… Okay, I'll stop now.

I was now the proud owner of a brand new jet black Cort acoustic with white edges and, so far, no dents. The best part was that it only cost a hundred and thirty dollars, so I could buy a case, tuner and spare strings. For all you out there who have no idea and less interest of how a guitar works, I won't go into details. It was made of wood and it was my new best friend. I was hardly away from it **(A/N: PM me if you have a name… I was thinking Jackson…)**, spending most of my free time in the practice rooms, scribbling song ideas and daydreaming.

One afternoon, a few days after I had bought my darling new instrument, Mickey decided to drop by and disturb my peace and quiet.

"Juliet!" I looked up.

"Since when have you been allowed to call me Juliet?" I demanded, scowling, but reminded of a past conversation.

"Since just now."

"Whatever. . . _Michaela_."

"Okay, I guessed I asked for that," Mickey came further into the practice room and sat on the grand piano stood in the corner, probably killing it. "What are you working on?"

"I'm trying to get a few chords to some lyrics that have been in my head for a while." I replied, pulling a face.

"Cool, need a hand?" It wouldn't be too bad, actually.

"Yeah, alright. Here are some of the words." I handed him a piece of paper covered with my messy handwriting.

'_Jesse Camp, Jesse Camp used to be a TV star.  
Jesse Camp, Jesse Camp is now a homeless guy living out of his car.  
you might see him around on the street  
he sure looks the same to me  
but he's no longer on the MTV  
he's in the cubicle next to me_'

Those, my friends, were the manuscripts to a future hit song. Well, they weren't all the lyrics, and I was having trouble with the music, but I think they weren't bad for a novice.

"These are good." Mickey sounded impressed, hopping off the piano and sitting next to me.

"Don't look so surprised!" I laughed for a moment then grew serious. "Are they really?"

"Yep."

"Thank you. I can't make the music work, though – and I need more text." Mickey thought about it, then grabbed a pencil and scribbled some stuff down, strumming my guitar as he went.

"How about that?" I read through his addition to the song, and smiled.

"I think we could have a song on our hands…"

_**~+~**Two Long Hours Later**~+~**_

"We defiantly have a song on our hands." I announced, beaming.

"Hell yeah," Mickey agreed, looking at the neatly-written version of the music and lyrics I'd written out when the scribbles and crossings-outs had become too confusing.

The song had a rocky underside, and a talkative way of singing, with a hard beat from drums and a gentle piano tune over the top.

It rocked.

"Do you want to show this to Mitchie and Caitlyn?" asked Mickey, waving the music in the air. A frown creased my forehead, and a knot appeared in my stomach. I wasn't sure if I was ready to play my own music to the general public just yet. "It's alright if you don't," he assured me. "You want to go grab some dinner?" I looked at my watch and my eyes widened in surprise when I saw the time,

"Yes – how did it get so late so quickly?!"

Mickey shrugged. "Time flies when you're writing hits."

* * *

"Are you sure we've come to the right place? This is a mob, not a civilized dining space."

"Well, the sign above the door says 'Music Mess Hall of Fame', so I'm going to assume so…" I tailed off, slightly bewildered by what really was an angry mob.

"Jools, Mickey!" Caitlyn disentangled herself from the crowd that was occupying every inch of the mess hall and also spilling out the doors. Most of them seemed to be shouting, waving their fists in the air.

"Hey, Caitlyn," I had to raise my voice to be heard above the noise. "What's going on? Has the kitchen run out of Nachos or something?" Caitlyn shook her head and I realised she looked incredibly sad and incredibly infuriated at the same time.

"No, it's much worse than that. Camp Rock is closing down."

_What_?!

"No. Way." Mickey's face was the picture of pure disbelief. "No. They can't close down Camp Rock. It's _not _possible."

"_Why_?" I asked. Shock was still my primary emotion, but I was slowly seeing scarlet. How could they do this? "It doesn't make sense for camp to close right in the middle of the summer. Brown wouldn't let it."

"Let's go and see him now." Mickey suggested. "He might be able to tell us something."

"All Dee's telling us is that there's been a problem with something '_official_'." Caitlyn told us. "Mitchie and Shane had to see Brown anyway; I'll take you to them."

Five minutes later, there were seven livid teenagers all talking at the camp director. Well, Jason was probably actually twenty-something, but hey, he had the mental age of a five year old most of the time…

"Why is Camp Rock closing down?"

"Who said it could?"

"How long have you _known_ about this?"

"What about _Final Jam_?"

"What's going to happen now?"

"Can't you stop it?"

"_Why_?"

Brown held up a hand to stem the questions. "Camp Rock is closing down because the record company that sponsors it – _your_ record company-" Brown indicated Connect Three, who had joined the argument a split second after hearing the news, "Has decided that we are not only too expensive to run, we aren't producing enough talent."

"Our record company is the worst in the universe. They're trying to save money by booting out artists, but they're kicking out the wrong ones! They think Mitchie can't perform, but they're jumping to sign singers who can't sing to save their life!" Nate pointed out.

"And _they_ don't even pay for camp, the campers do – you know how much they charge just for admission to Final Jam!" Mitchie agreed, waving her hands in the air to emphasize her words.

"_You can't close down Camp Rock_." I repeated Mickey's earlier words with urgency, only just realising what the consequences would be. If Camp Rock shut, where would I go? Mum and Dave were still in California, I couldn't interrupt their honeymoon. And, I realised only now, that I would be at a loss as to what to do. The last three weeks had been so jam packed full of guitar practice and singing and laughter that I wasn't sure what a normal life, with school and chores and homework, was actually like.

"I need to speak to the label." Shane announced, and pulled a BlackBerry out of his pocket. Even amongst the sadness and blood red fury, I still managed to be surprised at the fact a phone that large could fit into jeans that tight. I guess there are some things we'll just never know….

"Shane, no." Brown interrupted his nephew swiftly, before he had even had time to dial the number. "If we all go yelling at them now, their response will be negative and stupidly childish – they'll just shut camp down quicker." Wise words there Brown, my Yoda.

"That's true," Jason agreed, rubbing his forehead in a way I'd noticed he only did when agitated. "What we need is a comeback, a really good one."

"Yeah, one that totally kicks ass, not just a crappy one like 'Uh-uh. Gir-rrl, puh-lease.'" Caitlyn agreed, snapping her fingers in a Z formation at the same time.

"_Nothing_ like that." Mickey concurred, and we all laughed, needing the reassurance that the whole world was not going down the drain.

"So, anyone got any ideas? 'Cause I think we really need one." Mitchie said, and our faces fell again

"Protest?" Nate suggested. "We could go on strike and refuse to perform or write or go anywhere near the label until they agree to our wishes."

"How about we just ditch the record company altogether?" Shane spat. "We don't need them, anyway."

"What are we going to do without one?" Jason asked, confusion displayed all over his face. "Don't we need a record company to, you know, release records?"

"I think there are bands that have managed it." I said quietly, remembering The Futureheads and McFly, who, to the best of my knowledge, had split from their record company for whatever reason and -

"We could form our own." Jason suggested, eyes lighting up with the thrill of a new idea. But how could that possibly save Camp Rock? Brown was obviously thinking along the same lines as me, and said so.

"I have no idea how that would save camp… But then we might be able to sign our own bands." Nate put in, and I could see where he was coming from. With your own record company, you could have the industry at your fingertips…right?

"We'll discuss this later." Dee said, looking more like a stressed out high school teacher than a music camp director. "Right now I have to go tell the kids to calm down, I wouldn't be surprised if they had set _fire_ to the mess hall by now, the state they were in." Knowing how they felt, I couldn't blame them one bit if they had.

* * *

Over the next week, the atmosphere at camp became the worst I had ever known. No one had the heart to sing or dance anymore, as if somehow we didn't have the right. If Camp Rock was over, what was the point in rocking? Mostly I just sat, with Mickey and Eliza and Matt, in the music room Eliza and I had first performed Boulevard of Broken Dreams in, and tried to enjoy our time together while we could. For today was Wednesday, and parents were coming the following Saturday to pick us all up and take us back to our homes in various states in America.

Caitlyn no longer sat me at the dressing table for hours on end, fixing my hair into crazy styles. Shane and Mitchie spent most waking hours out on the lake in a canoe, meal times were dull and subdued – there were no more food fights or busking, no more lessons even.

"Oh, I can't take this anymore!" Eliza announced, standing up suddenly and dislodging Matt and I from our places on the wooden floor – we'd both been leaning on her.

"What can't you take?" Mickey asked, leaning back against the piano and crossing his legs.

"This, this, _moping_." Eliza clarified, pacing up and down the room. "If these are our last days at camp, we should be celebrating our time here, not acting like they were the worst of our lives!"

"But that's just it," I pointed out. "They _were_ the best of our lives, and we can't even come back next year to repeat the experience; this is the _last_ Camp Rock _ever_, it won't happen _again_."

"All the more reason to celebrate." Eliza argued.

"She's right; we _do_ need something fun and crazy to send the year out with a bang – something that would rock even better than Final Jam." Oh, didn't I tell you? Final Jam had been cancelled as well, due to the fact the label organised the judging, trophy and recording contract that had been up for grabs this year.

"We need….A show." Mickey said, and I wacked him over the head with one the fashion magazines Eliza had been forcing me to read (seriously, what is with the _obsession_ over Miley Cyrus? I don't get it). "What was that for?!"

"Final Jam was a show and everything from here was a show, you idiot!"

"Oh, forgive me for trying to lighten the atmosphere." he replied grumpily. "And don't say '_was_'. It sounds too final."

"I know." I replied quietly. "It's just so _horrible_; I don't want camp to end." Eliza put her arm around me comfortingly, and said,

"It won't. We'll think of a way."

A way to save Camp Rock.

Well, hell, the idea had to be good.

Because otherwise Saturday would be the end of the best time of my life.

* * *

**Like the plot twist? I did, it got rid of my writer's block...**


	9. Born For This, Realising It Like That

**Hey**

**You'll be pleased and surprised to see I've updated this story before two months was up. **

**You may not be pleased to discover that this is the last chapter...**

**But there is a epilogue coming soon, on or before Sunday ('cause it's actually already been written, shock horror!)....**

**I don't own anything except the origianal characters....**Born For This, Realising It Like That

* * *

Today was the day.

Today was the beginning of the end of the beginning of my life. I had discovered myself in the last month, more so than I would ever have thought possible before I moved continents and met some of the nicest people in the world, in my world anyway. That was the beginning, when I learnt to play guitar and sing and write music. The end was now coming, because in fifteen minutes my parents would be here, waiting to take me to Spring City. I had actually never seen my new home, so miserably attempting to look on the bright side – and failing dismally – I sketched out a design for a mural in my new room. I was halfway through the musical notes that surrounded the guitar, bass, keyboard and drum kit when I realised that Camp Rock _was_ my home.

So now you see why today was the beginning of the end of my life. How's that for emo? Well, I try.

Unable to mope any longer, I picked up my guitar, which I had christened Jackson, and was about to strum when the killer idea we all needed walked up to me and slapped me on the face.

"Guys!!!" Damn, I was bad at running. "Guys, listen! I have-"

"Oh, hey Jools. We were just-"

"_Guys!_ I have a cunning plan." And it wasn't just a crappy quote, either.

Two hours later, all was ready. The stage had been set up, the speakers worked and the audience were seated.

"Jools, all systems are go." Matt told me, and I beamed before running to Brown (I was really getting practice at this fast walking stuff).

"Ready, poppet? Excellent, I'll go and explain to the audience the general run of things and introduce the first act."

I nodded, bouncing on my toes like a five-year-old in a sweet shop. I couldn't believe this was really happening, that my idea worked, and people were here, and I was about to _perform_! In front of _people_! It was a lot to take in, let me tell you. But here I was, and –

"Jools! Get your butt over here, _now_!" Oh. My. God. We were on. How did all the other nine acts finish so quickly?! Eliza handed me my guitar and Caitlyn gave us the thumbs up as Brown introduced us.

"And here is the band fronted by the young lady who made this evening possible. I give you – Jools, Matt, Mickey and Eliza… Mirth Empiricism!" Like the name? It was a brainchild of Matt and Mickey.

We ran up onto the stage – the same one used for Final Jam last year – and Mickey and I took our places at the microphones stationed at the front of the stage, with Eliza next to me on vocals and Matt to the right of Mickey and I on bass, with a microphone as well. Since we had neglected to find ourselves a drummer, we had Shane Gray sitting at a huge drum kit, in front of a sparkly banner which read 'Rock It for Camp'.

The lights dimmed, my heart leapt a foot and the drums started. **(A/N: Go get 'Born For This' by Paramore up on YouTube now.) **Then came the actual music…

"_Oh no, I just keep on falling-" _Eliza started us off.

_  
"Back to the same old-" _Now Matt and Mickey showed off their chanting skills.

_  
"And where's hope, when misery comes crawling?" _I sang too.

_  
"Oh my way-" _Ooh, another chant.

_  
"With your faith, you'll trigger a landslide-" _Eliza.

_  
"Victory-" _Chant.

_  
"To kill off this common sense of mine-" _Please tell me you get the format by now.Moi. Eliza, the genius.

"It takes acquired minds, to taste it, to taste it, to taste this wine  
You can't down it with your eyes  
So we don't need the headlines  
We don't need the headlines  
We just want-"

"We want the airwaves back, we want the airwaves back!"

"Everybody sing  
Like it's the last song you will ever sing  
Tell me, tell me do you feel the pressure now  
Everybody live, like it's the last day  
You will ever see  
Tell me, tell me do you feel the pressure now-"

"Right now, you're the only reason-"

_  
"I'm not letting go, oh!"_

_  
"And time out if everyone's worth pleasing-"_

"_Well ha-ha!"_

_  
"You'll trigger a landslide-"_

_  
"Victory-"_

_  
"To kill off this chronic state of mind-"_ That bit was me, honest.You gotta love that bit, right?Back to Eliza.Us both…

"It takes acquired minds, to taste it, to taste it, to taste this wine  
You can down it with your eyes  
So we don't need the headlines  
No we don't want you're headlines  
We just want-"

"We want the airwaves back, we want the airwaves back!"

"Everybody sing  
Like it's the last song you will ever sing  
Tell me, tell me do you feel the pressure now  
Everybody live, like it's the last day  
You will ever see  
Tell me, tell me do you feel the pressure now?"

"Everybody sing  
Like it's the last song you will ever sing  
Tell me tell me do you feel the pressure..."

"Alright so you think you're ready  
Okay then you say this with me, go-"

_  
"We were born for this-"_

_  
"We were born for this"_ And now we had the audience catching on…

_  
"Alright so you think you're ready  
Okay then you say this with me, go_

_We were born for this-"_

_  
"We were born for this!"_

_  
"We were born for this-"_

_  
"We were born for this!"_

_  
"We were born for  
We were born for..._

Everybody sing  
Like it's the last song you will ever sing  
Tell me, tell me can you feel the pressure  
Everybody live, like it's the last day  
You will ever see  
Tell me tell me can you feel the pressure now?"

Everybody sing like it's the last song you will ever sing  
Tell me, tell me can you feel the pressure  
Tell me, tell me can you feel the pressure?"

"_We were born for this!_

_  
We were born for this!_

_  
We were born for this!"_

And so we were. The audience (which consisted of the parents come to take us home and the odd journalist or two.) were on their feet, clapping. Standing ovation, _wow._ I looked at each of my best friends – my band – who were laughing just as hard as I was. Mitchie, Caitlyn and Connect Three, who I owed my entire flipping life to, were in the wings, cheering with everyone else, and I could see my parents in the crowed, beaming. Mum caught my eye and mouthed "Well done!" and I was so overcome with the brilliantness of it all that an empath would have gotten a headache if they'd walked in the room at that particular moment in time. I took my friends' hands and we did that theatrical bow thing, with the slow motion headbanging.

I was _so _born for this.


	10. Epilogue: But I Am a Musician

**Okay..**

**I said I was going to update this a looong time ago, but I didn't get any reviews for chapter nine, so I didn't, 'cause I was a bit gloomy. Then I fiddled around and wasn't sure if I had actually updated, but what the hell. If you havn't read the last chapter, which is definatly now there, the epilogue won't make sense.**

**Moving on... This is the last chapter *Sniff, sob* but I will do a sequel if there is enough call for it. Actually, I might do one anyway, because I don't think I'm finished with Jools yet.**

**Thanks to Rhi for beta-ing, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, please review again, I don't own Camp Rock.**

Epilogue: But I Am a Musician

My bags were packed and in the truck, and all that was missing was Miss McKenzie. Well, I didn't need a cheesy line from a Busted song to cheer me up, as I had my friends' contact details (complete with email, phone and address, they were never getting rid of me!) in my pocket. Jackson was in the backseat with the notebook that contained Small Lean and Born for This, complete with doodles on the title page by Connect Three's frontman when he was slightly tipsy, the day Mitchie and he exchanged formal 'I love you's'…

Camp Rock had been saved; we'd been informed the day before, due to the press coverage of 'Rock It for Camp' and the record label that was being constructed that very day. Said record label, called Summer's Songs, had also signed one Michelle Torres, Caitlyn Gellar and Tess Tyler, as well as the label's founding band, Connect Three. Mirth Empiricism had been offered a place there too, but due to school and parents, that space would have to be watched for a few more years.

"Jools, come _on_!" Jeez, could they _get_ anymore grumpy? I had to say goodbye to my friends, didn't I? After all, I wasn't going to see any of them for another two months! And, as I had already patiently explained to Mum and Dave, two months was _ages_ away. It would be practically Halloween by then, and God knows how much I would miss everyone while sitting in double maths in that scary new school I was trying so hard not to think about.

Still, Colorado would be a laugh, as the entire weekend would be Camp Rock convention. Just maybe Mitchie and Caitlyn's unfinished song would be done by then…

"_Jools_!"

"Yeah, yeah, coming…" I called over my shoulder, giving Mickey a hug before whispering in his ear "Don't even _think_ about putting We Cry on MySpace without sending me a demo first, okay?" As an answer I just got a laugh and a kiss on the cheek. Ah well, a girl's gotta try.

I had already said goodbye to Matt, who had been dragged by the ear (almost literally) to his family's car after insisting he played a riff to Eliza that lasted ten minutes. Eliza herself, however, was another story. I'll admit, I cried a little when she said how quiet it'd be without my, ahem, constant commentary on everything around us. There were tears for her too though, as I told her I wasn't sure how long I could survive without that tap dance routine we'd made up on one of the benches the week before.

"Jools, we really _do_ have to leave now, honey." I nodded and grinned at Mum, then looked around at camp one last time before next year's stay.

It was the exact moment Jason tripped over Ella's suitcase, banged into his girlfriend and broke Nate's camera that I realised exactly what I had achieved that summer. I had arrived at Camp Rock a loner, with no friends, no confidence and no knowledge of music. Now, at the very end of camp, I had more friends than I could count and assurance that I could speak (and sing) in public on my own. I also had an understanding of the line 'Music's in my soul', insight on how music and words can change someone's life forever, make them happy or depressed, laugh or cry. I could play guitar and read music, dance to a song without tripping over, and sing in a way I would never have believed possible two months earlier.

I was a musician.

* * *


End file.
